


Newsies Oneshots & Requests

by orphan_account



Category: Newsies (1992), Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Card Games, Cards, Fluff, Hospitals, I’ll add tags as I go, Requests, oneshots
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-15
Updated: 2020-09-02
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:55:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25908463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: A collection of one shots determined by my diy random fanfic generator and also any requests because i am eternally bored
Relationships: Racetrack Higgins & Albert DaSilva, Spot Conlon/Racetrack Higgins
Comments: 6
Kudos: 11





	1. Crutchie, Blink, David & Smalls

David liked to play cards, really he did. He and Sarah played all sorts of card games at home. What David didn’t like to do was bet on cards. You see, cards were fun but they lost their appeal when every game could lose him half a days pay. Or a while weeks pay if Race was playing.

And so, David didn’t play cards at the lodging house.

Except for today, apparently.

Today, Crutchie had convinced him to play with him, Smalls and Blink. Not even David himself really knew how he found himself sitting at the card table, being dealt in his hand.

David didn’t play cards at the lodging house.

That said, David did play cards, and he was damn good at it if he did say so himself. If his father ever had friends over, they would play cards, and David always joined them.

David always won.

In fact, the only person he had lost to in the past 5 years was Sarah, who had always been David’s match, intellectually. But Sarah wasn’t here right now.

Now, it was him, Crutchie, Blink and Smalls.

David didn’t play cards at the lodging house.

David did watch cards at the lodging house though. He watched for tells and strategies. He watched every newsie just in case he ever decided to play.

Crutchie didn’t play often but when he did, he was a good player. He had a close to unreadable poker face. He never bet high unless he knew he would win. He stayed quiet and observed.

Blink did play often. Blink also lost often. It’s a miracle he isn’t dead on the street. He never backed down, even if he had less than nothing in his hand. He took every risk. Only a few have ever paid off.

David had only seen Smalls play once, over a year ago. She was good. But one game wasn’t enough for David to know just how good. He would have to watch her, and hope for the best.

Finally, the cards were dealt and the game was on.

The first few rounds went by, as most do, uneventfully. It was Crutchies turn.

He picked up a card and for a fraction of a second, there was a glint in his eye. David looked to the other two players, neither of them had noticed. David then looked at his own cards and sighed internally. He wasn’t doing well.

The next few rounds, David kept his eye on Crutchie, hoping to see through his facade but to no avail.

Blink waved his hand over his cards searching for something to discard and with a mere moment of hesitation he plucked a queen from his hand and tossed it to the discard pile.

Perfect.

David claimed the queen for himself and threw a four from his hand.

“Damn,” Blink exhaled “I was hoping you wouldn’t do that,” earning a laugh from someone in the small crowd who were watching the game.

If he had any luck next round, David could win. Fingers crossed.

While David has spent all his time watching Crutchie and laughing internally at Blink, he forgot to pay attention to Smalls. Oops.

She drew her card and immediately began rearranging her hand before laying it down on the table with a satisfied smile.

“Shit Smalls,” Said Mush from behind Blink “You gotta teach me how to do that,”

David groaned, “I was so close!” laying down his own hand.

“That’s what she said!” laughed Smalls, collecting her winnings.

“Note to self, don’t play cards with Smalls,” Crutchie pretended to write on his hand.

“Nice try, Davey. We should play again sometime.”

“You know what, I just might take you up on that offer”


	2. Spot's in the hospital oh no

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Basically Spot's in the hospital and Spot and Jack are brothers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one was a request from Enjolras_The_Survivor. Hope you like it!

Races phone buzzed, waking him from his fourth nap of the afternoon. Ugh. He rolled over and searched for his phone with his hand, not wanting to open his eyes just yet.

The phone continued to ring as Race accidentally knocked it off the bed onto the floor. He heard it hit the ground and rolled over once more to be able to reach it, overestimating the size of his bed.

Thud.

Ouch. Race groaned and rubbed his hip where he had hit the floor.

The phone finally stopped ringing and he remembered why he was even awake in the first place. Race found it and checked who had called him but before he could even see the name, the phone was going off again. It was Jack.

Jack? Jack never called. He texted and on occasion facetimed if it was important but Race honestly couldn't seem to recall a single time Jack had called him.

"Ja-"  
"Spots in the hospital." Race was suddenly on his feet and very much awake.  
"What? What happened? Is he okay?" He was talking so fast he couldn't even understand himself.  
"Do you want me to answer your questions or do you want to come outside and catch a ride to the hospital with me?"  
"Outside? Outside. Yes, I'm coming," He hung up the phone and pulled on a shirt before sprinting down the hallway and out the front door, yelling something to his mom about the hospital.

Race almost tripped on his front steps and grabbed the handle to Jacks mom van to find it locked. Instead of waiting for jack to unlock it he kept on pulling on it slightly more violently than he intended to let jack know he couldn't get in.

Click. Less than a second after he heard the click of the lock unlocking, Race was in the passenger set of the vehicle, pulling his seatbelt on.

"Jeez, calm down Racer. He ain't dyin' or nothing, hes just got an infection,"  
"Why'd you know before me?"  
"First of all I'm sure if you actually looked at your phone he would've texted you" Jack started " And second of all, I'm his emergency contact." Race opened his phone, and sure enough, there was a text from Spot, below three more missed calls from Jack. Oops. Once he lited his head, Jack was pulling into the visitor parking of the hospital. Instead of replying to the text, Race figured he would just go inside and talk to him in person. And off he went.

He was stopped at the front desk though to sign in. He dragged Jack down the hallway towards the elevator and had him punch in the floor level.  
"What was the number again?"  
"334"

Ding.

Once again, Race was off, counting the room numbers under his breath before,  
"334" Race burst through the door, obviously scaring Spot as he dropped his phone on his lap and snapped his head towards the door.  
"Race" Spot sighed. He looked completely normal other than the hospital gown and the slightly uncomfortableness that comes with being in a hospital.  
"Are you okay?"  
"I'm fine, Race" Race looked at him with something that was somewhere in between sadness and worriedness.

The pair made eye contact and read each other with ease before being forced to look away as Jack entered the room.  
"Hey, Jackie."  
"Hey Spot."  
Jack held up a bag that Race vaguely remembered being in the van with them.  
"I've got 'get well soon' cards from Davey, Crutchie and Elmer, and 'hope you die' cards from everyone else" Spot let out a huff of air through his nose before nodding his head towards his little table.  
"Put 'em there, I'll read 'em later"

A moment of silence went by before Spot shot Jack a look that clearly meant 'Go away I want to talk to Race' and Jack made up some excuse along the lines of looking for a vending machine.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Race grabbed Spots hand and drew circles with his thumb.  
"Oh, are you worried about me?" Spot teased earning him a light smack from Races free hand. "Yeah, I'm okay."  
Race sighed before putting small smirk on his face.  
"Because it really would be a shame of those abs spent the rest of eternity in a casket," He laughed  
"Oh fuck off Racetrack."  
"Racetrack?" This time Race was the one to get smacked.  
"I am pretty tired though," Spot yawned  
"Oh, should i leave?"  
"Nah, you can stay." Spot made eye contact sending messages that transcend the limits of the english language before slowly drifting off to sleep.

Race smiled to himself, boy was he whipped.


	3. Race and Albert are best friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Albert is tired and Race is best friends with Al's parents

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For BrooklynsLate 
> 
> Sorry this is super short

Albert DaSilva was exhausted.

He'd woken up at 5:00 this morning so he could get an hour in at the gym before school and still have time to shower before his 7:30 class. He didn't have single spare period today nor did he have time to rest after school as he had to be at work for 3:45. His shift ended 30 minutes ago but they were busy so he had to stay until the rush was over, leaving him to get home at almost ten o'clock at night.

So yeah, he was a bit tired.

Once he was home he could've fallen asleep standing up. The only thing more intense than his tiredness was his hunger. The last time he ate was at noon and even then he'd only had a sandwich and a few chips he stole from Jojo. So, instead of going to bed, he made his way to the kitchen, not awake enough to notice the extra pair of shoes at the door.

His parents were at the table having a conversation about something or other.

"And then I fell out of my chair right in front of everyone." He heard someone say "Oh hey, Albert"

"Hey Race," Albert hadn't even bothered to look at them and was already digging through his fridge looking for leftovers.

Wait.

"Race?" His mind finally catching up with his eyes.

"Yeah Albie?"

"It's like late o'clock why are you here?"

"Why I was having a pleasant conversation with your parents," Albert sighed, knowing his parents always liked having Race over. Whether he was there with them or not.

"I'm assuming you're staying the night then?"

"Do you even really have to ask?" Al pulled out a pizza box, not even bothering to check what was in it.

"Okay, whatever. I'll be in my room," He gestured with the box in his hand "I'll be taking this with me. Come up whenever." He headed downstairs to his room in the basement and fell onto his bed with a dramatic sigh and a yawn. He had barely opened the pizza box before he heard Race follow him down the stairs.

As Race entered the room, he grabbed a slice of cold pizza and joined Albert on the bed.

"Don't you ever get tired of hanging out with my parents?" It wasn't the first time he'd come home to find Race in his house, acting like he owned the place "Not that they don't love you more than they love their own son or anything, it's just a little bit weird that you are on a first-name basis with my parents." He was joking of course. About them loving Race more than him. Not about the first name basis thing, that part was completely true.

"Aw, shut up,"

The pair spent the next hour eating pizza and showing each other memes until Albert was basically sleeping with his eyes open.

"Okay, pal" Race laughed "You're gonna pass out on me right away, so how about we go to bed" Albert mumbled something that might've been agreement and might've been a protest.

Albert tossed his phone onto the night stand and pulled himself under the covers, workhat, jeans and all. Race snapped a picture for blackmail, as any good friend would, before putting on some of alberts pyjamas, knowing Al would hate him for it in the morning, and turned off the lights.

Race pulled himself into bed beside him, and fell asleep to the sound of Alberts obnoxious snoring.


End file.
